


let it out, let it out

by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley, canon-typical trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartalli/pseuds/crazyassmurdererwall
Summary: When Buck has a rough shift at work, his first instinct every time is to go back to the loft. Alone.Eddie’s not having that. Not anymore.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 598





	let it out, let it out

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, but hopefully not my last. Title comes from the song Amadeus by Family and Friends. If you think I’m missing a tag, please let me know.

**let it out, let it out**

* * *

Firefighters have rough shifts sometimes – it’s part of the job. It’s what Eddie signed up for; it’s what they _all_ signed up for. They’re the people who show up on what’s more than likely one of the worst days of someone’s life, doing everything they can to help. But sometimes it’s not going to be enough. Sometimes _they’re_ not going to be enough. And most of the 118 are good at understanding that, at compartmentalizing, at remembering that one loss doesn’t eclipse all the good they do.

But not Buck.

And today was a pretty rough one, the roughest in a while.

Eddie’s eyes are fixed to Buck the moment they climb back into the truck but Buck is quiet, face streaked with soot, eyes fixed away and out the window away from the remains of the charred, still smoking house.

He stays like that the entire trip back to the station and Eddie’s eyes stay fixed on him the entire time, save for once when Eddie looks over at Bobby in the front seat and finds Bobby looking over his shoulder, staring at the back of Buck’s head. His mouth is tight, his eyebrows drawn together, the concern practically leaking out of him, and Eddie had wanted to say _yeah. Me too._

Back at the station Buck climbs out of the truck quietly, pulls off his turnout gear and stows it, then walks away to the locker room to take a shower, to wash the soot and grime off. Eddie watches him do all of this without a word, and when he finally turns to stow his own gear in his locker, finds Bobby, Hen, and Chim slowly stowing their own, concerned eyes moving from Eddie to the locker room and back again.

Eddie gives them a nod, turns and walks toward Buck. It’s not like anyone has nominated him – it’s not like anyone ever really nominates him – but Eddie doesn’t need that. Not to look out for Buck. Never to look out for Buck.

Sometimes Buck shakes these rough shifts off, finds a way to deal with them. But the moment Eddie sees him sit down quietly on the bench, shoulders drooping and head hanging down as he almost listlessly pulls on his socks, Eddie knows this isn’t going to be one of those times. No. If no one does anything, Buck is going to wear this one for a while. Blame himself, go down some rabbit hole of self-doubt and recrimination.

Eddie is not going to let that happen.

“C’mon,” he says with a nod of the head and a nudge to Buck’s arm, and almost takes a step back at the naked expression of pain on Buck’s face when he looks up.

It’s gone as quick as it came, moderated to something that looks more like weariness, fatigue, but in that moment if Eddie has any doubts about what he’s about to do, they disappear.

“Eddie?” he says, like he’s surprised Eddie is standing there, and Eddie’s stomach hurts a little.

Buck should never be surprised by that.

“Let’s go get Chris from Abuela’s.”

“Eddie,” he says again, wearily, this time with a shake of the head, looking away and down at the ground, and Eddie cuts him off before he can say something truly stupid like _I’m just going to go home_ or _no, that’s okay_ or _I don’t want to intrude on your time with Chris._

“Chris is going to be so happy to see you.”

It’s a dirty trick, using Chris like that. Eddie knows he isn’t playing fair.

But Eddie isn’t interested in playing fair right now.

It’s part of the double-edged sword of who Buck is. He has a big, open heart, and that big, open heart made sure Eddie had care for Chris, it means Buck treats Chris like his own, it made it so easy for Eddie to fall in love with him. The easiest thing in the world. Like breathing, really. But that big, open heart also bruises and breaks and bleeds so easily, even for people he’s never met before. So sometimes that heart needs tending. It needs someone to look out for it.

And while that’s not a position Eddie ever remembers applying for, if you tried to take it away from him now, you’d have to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.

Eddie lets Buck walk in front of him and Eddie looks back at the rest of the team, nods to them. They give him encouraging half smiles and Bobby gives him a nod, and Eddie nods one more time before he follows Buck out of the station.

He corrals Buck toward his truck, ignoring Buck’s weak protests that he can just follow in his own car, because Eddie is not stupid. The last thing Buck needs is an easy escape. Not when what he really needs is to be surrounded by people who love him.

Buck is just as quiet in Eddie’s truck, giving only a soft nod to Eddie’s suggestion they order pizza for dinner, even when Eddie suggests they get it from Nora’s, Buck’s favorite place. He does perk up when they pick up Chris, but Eddie can see it’s clearly been forced for Chris’ and Abuela’s benefit. And when Abuela gives Buck an extra long hug and throws a worried look Eddie’s way, when Chris looks up at Eddie from the backseat of the truck, his little mouth turned down in a way it usually isn’t, Eddie knows Buck’s effort hasn’t worked on them either.

But Eddie also knows that if anything can turn Buck around on a day like this, it’s the little boy in the backseat, the one who is so much more to Buck than either Buck or Chris really realize, who shares Buck’s big, open heart, his easy smile, as if Buck himself gave them to him.

* * *

Chris pulls out all the stops – they color, they build a city with his Lego, they play a video game, Chris even makes Buck help him build a fort in his room – but Buck isn’t turning the corner on this thing, and by the time the pizza has arrived they’re all just bundled on the couch, watching _How to Train Your Dragon,_ Chris quietly snuggled up to Buck on his lap, as if he can push reassurance and love to Buck through sheer contact. If anyone could manage that, it’d be Chris.

They all pick at their food, eating less than they usually do because none of them are really in the mood, and then Chris resumes his position on Buck’s lap as Buck pretends he’s watching the movie and Eddie nurses his beer, not even _trying_ to pretend he’s doing anything other than watching Buck and Chris.

This has gone on too long. Eddie needs to do something. Something long overdue.

“Hey Chris,” Eddie says, pausing the movie. “Why don’t you get in your pjs. And brush your teeth.”

Chris reluctantly lets Buck go and gets up, but only after Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. Despite the reassurance, Chris still looks back over his shoulder at Buck when he’s about halfway down the hall, as if scared that if he doesn’t, Buck will disappear.

After Chris leaves Buck leans forward for a moment, arms braced on his thighs, head hanging, before he abruptly stands, clears his partially empty beer bottle, stacks their mostly empty plates on top of a pizza box that’s still ¾ full, and walks into the kitchen.

Eddie waits a few beats then slowly gets up and follows him, leaning against the doorframe and watching as Buck moves in the kitchen like it’s his own: putting away the pizza, cleaning off their plates and loading them in the dishwasher, dumping the remainder of his beer out in the sink before setting it in the recycling bin. When he’s done he stops, drops his head, braces his hands on the counter on either side of the sink and just stands there, shoulders hunched, curled in on himself. Eddie taps his empty bottle against the flat of his palm, waits. Watches.

A few more moments pass then Buck straightens a little, turns, ducks his head when he finds Eddie watching him. Eddie tilts his head.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck says in a rush, head bowed. He tries to paste on a smile that Eddie doesn’t believe, not for one moment. “I’m not very much fun tonight. I should go.”

“It’s late, Buck,” Eddie says softly.

Buck looks up, eyebrows furrowed. “No, it’s okay. I can just call for an Uber.”

Trust Buck to completely misunderstand that, to completely misunderstand what he means to Eddie.

“You’re not going back to the loft,” Eddie says, and lifts himself off the doorframe. “First of all, if I let you leave I’m pretty sure Chris would stage a coup and then find a way to smuggle himself in the back of the Uber.”

That wins Eddie a small smile, which is exactly what Eddie was going for, and as he comes closer, Eddie drops his empty bottle in the recycling bin then steps right in front of Buck, just a few inches away.

“And secondly...I don’t want you to go.”

Buck gives him a surprised blink, mouth parting, eyes darting over Eddie’s face.

“I hate that when you have a rough shift your first instinct is to run back to the loft, to wallow alone.”

“Eddie-”

“I hate that you do that,” he continues on, as if Buck hadn’t spoken, eyes fixed to Buck’s face, “when you belong here. With us.”

Buck’s face crumples a little. “I don’t want to put that on you, Eddie. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“Yes, it is,” he says immediately, intently, eyes boring into Buck’s. “You’re family. You’re...”

There’s a heavy silence for a few moments before Buck asks softly, hesitantly, “I’m what, Eds?”

Eddie shifts closer, thinks _fuck it._ Buck deserves his honesty, his open heart.

It’s what Buck would give him, after all. It’s what Buck always gives him.

So he brings his hands up and pulls Buck to him, kisses him. Makes sure through the grip of his fingers on Buck’s head, through the sure press of his lips on Buck’s, through the shifting forward of his body to slot against him like a key in a lock that Buck knows exactly what Eddie means.

Eddie always has been more a man of action.

The kiss isn’t very long, not nearly as long as Eddie wants it to be, not with Chris just down the hall from them. But despite that it’s _everything_ , and Eddie’s nerve endings are all singing as he pulls away, as if in celebration, or triumph.

 _Finally_ , they say. _Finally._

_What took you so long?_

Buck licks his lips, slow blinks as he comes back to himself, Eddie’s thumbs caressing his skin.

“Does that answer your question?”

Buck laughs and gives him a blinding smile and Eddie thinks, _there it is. That’s what_ _I’ve_ _been waiting for._

Buck leans forward, presses his forehead to Eddie’s, and Eddie sweeps a hand over his head, comforting him the same way he would Chris.

His boys.

Buck takes a moment before he pulls back and sucks in a breath. But doesn’t back away from Eddie, and Eddie feels his heart give an extra thump as he waits patiently for Buck to mull over what’s going on in his head, to talk to him, anxiety rising slightly as tears come to Buck’s eyes. Eddie wipes away one of the tears with the pad of his thumb, then strokes Buck’s cheek.

“She was so little, Eddie,” Buck finally whispers with a wobbly lip he doesn’t try to hide.

“Yeah,” he says softly, gravely, because she was. There’s no refuting that. And Buck, of course, had been the one to find her, carrying her desperately on a sprint to Hen and Chim, begging them to save her, her little body cradled so gently in Buck’s arms.

Buck frowns, looks away before he says desperately, eyes finally returning to Eddie, “If I’d just been a little bit faster, if I-”

“No,” Eddie says with a firm shake of his head.

Buck’s voice is a little more desperate when he says, “But what if I-”

“No,” Eddie says again, eyes boring into Buck’s. “You could not have been faster, or stronger, or better than you were today. We saved eight people from that fire, Buck. She was just too little. We were never going to get there in time.”

That’s the thing about this job: they can’t save everyone, no matter how much they want to, no matter how hard they try. Sometimes bad things happen, and they can’t get to the person who needs them quickly enough. It’s as simple as that, but not always simple to accept. Especially not for someone like Buck, someone who would willingly save the entire world if he could.

“It’s not fair,” Buck says with a devastated whisper, sounding younger than he has any right sounding, aching for a little girl who will never grow up, and Eddie grips the back of his neck.

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees and Buck lifts his head and quickly looks away, nodding.

Buck is absolutely right. It’s not. And there’s no getting around that.

But life isn’t fair. Eddie knows that intimately.

Buck swallows hard and tries to compose himself but then he stops, shakes his head, squeezes his eyes when a fresh batch of tears fall.

“Talk to me.”

Buck shakes his head again then seems to reconsider that because he squares up and his eyes immediately find Eddie’s. He says, “I can’t stop thinking about her, Eds. How do I stop?”

He winces, as if what he’s just said is cruel somehow, and Eddie wonders if Evan Buckley has even the slightest idea of how good a man he really is.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling Buck after him and down the hallway, stopping a ways away from the bathroom where they can hear Chris humming to himself as he brushes his teeth.

“Listen,” Eddie says, and Buck does, obediently.

Eddie waits a few beats, waits while Chris’ sweet sounds wash over the both of them, smoothing out the lines in Buck’s forehead in a way only Chris is capable of, before he says, “This is what you do.” He points to the mostly closed door of the bathroom. “You look at this kid, you listen to this kid... _our_ kid...and you remember that time when you weren’t at your best, and you stopped at _nothing_ to save his life.”

“Eds…,” Buck breathes out, eyes big, sucking in a breath in the dark of the hallway, and Eddie understands. He does. It’s huge, what he’s giving Buck.

But it’s nothing that’s not true, nothing that Buck doesn’t deserve. Chris is just as much Buck’s as he is Eddie’s, and Buck should never doubt that. He should never doubt what he means to them.

Eddie nods and Buck gives a jerky, teary nod back then steps forward and wraps himself around Eddie, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck, and just like that, there’s nowhere else Eddie would rather be.

The bathroom door swings open and Chris comes walking out slowly, carefully. Buck crouches down to his level and Chris comes to a stop, resting his hand on Buck’s shoulder. Buck’s hands wrap around Chris’ rib cage – to steady Chris or to be close to him, Eddie’s not sure. Both, maybe.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bummer tonight, Chris.”

Chris just shrugs. “Being with you is always better than not being with you. Even when you’re sad.”

Trust Chris to get right down to the heart of the matter.

“You had a rough day, huh?”

“Yeah,” Buck says and swallows. “A little girl died today. And we couldn’t save her.”

“Oh,” Chris says.

“Yeah.”

Chris thinks for a moment then says, “It’s hard when stuff doesn’t work out, even when you do your best.”

Eddie loves his kid, _their_ kid. He loves him so damn much. And one glance down at Buck tells him Buck feels exactly the same way.

Thank God for Chris.

“Yeah,” Buck says, a croak in his voice, eyes shining with wonder. “It is.”

Chris nods, reaches forward and wraps his arms around Buck in a hug. Buck hugs him back, stands, pressing his head to the side of Chris’ as his eyes meet Eddie’s over Chris.

“You did everything you could,” Chris says, and Buck pulls back to look Chris in the eye.

“Yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because you’re a great firefighter. And because you did everything you could to save me,” Chris says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Eddie can’t fault him for that. It is.

“You’re the best kid in the world, do you know that?” Buck asks, and yeah, he’s biased, but Eddie agrees with that too.

Buck presses his hand to Chris’ chest, looks him in the eye and says, “I love you. So much.” Then he pulls him in tight, cupping the back of Chris’ head.

Buck meets Eddie’s eye with a smile as Chris tells him that he knows, that he loves him too, and if Buck had any lingering insecurities about where he belongs, about who he belongs with, Eddie knows they’re gone now.

He steps forward, wraps his arms around them both and kisses Buck over Chris’ shoulder. Chris turns his head, looks up at Eddie from Buck’s shoulder, and Eddie gives him a smile, sweeps his hand over Chris’ head, stopping his movement when his hand rests on top of Buck’s.

“What do you say we get out of the hallway and finish this movie, huh?”

“Ice cream?” Chris asks with a grin, a hopeful lilt to his voice. “Movies are always better with ice cream.”

Buck echoes him. “Yeah, Eds. Movies are always better with ice cream.”

He gives Chris a look. “You just brushed your teeth.”

“I can brush them again.”

They’re both looking at him with hopeful smiles and bright eyes, twins, two sides of the same coin, and Eddie doesn’t have it in him to deny either of them much of anything. Not tonight.

“Alright,” he concedes. “Fine.”

He absolutely does not smile at their cheers. Not even a little bit.

* * *

Chris falls asleep pretty quickly after the ice cream – _with hot fudge dad, can I please have hot fudge?_ – and the second round of teeth brushing, snuggled up once more in Buck’s arms, his feet in Eddie’s lap. Eddie’s arm is stretched across the back of the sofa, behind Buck’s shoulders, and he reaches forward and brushes his thumb over the curve of Buck’s shoulder, memorizing the line, the swoop of it.

Buck’s eyes had been fixed to Chris for a while now but he finally turns his gaze to Eddie, eyes heavy from the day but so full of love that it’s shining out of him. It makes Eddie ache.

“I love him so much, Eddie.”

Eddie nods. “He loves you right back.” His thumb rubs smooth circles against the fabric if Buck’s t-shirt. “Just as much as he loves me.”

And then Eddie leans forward and claims a soft kiss because he can, because they do this now. Just because.

Buck kisses him back, hungrier than Eddie’s more measured, gentler kisses. Kisses like he’s desperate for it. Eddie soothes him, gentles him into slowing down a little, and Buck finally goes, sinking into what Eddie is giving him, losing his desperation as he gives himself over to Eddie, trusts him. Like the partners they are.

“Too much kissing,” Chris mumbles, rubbing his face against Buck’s chest, and Buck and Eddie pull back with huffed laughs.

“Okay...bedtime,” Eddie says with a pat to Chris’ legs.

Chris groans out his displeasure and curves even more into Buck. “ ‘M not tired.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says with an eye roll. “Clearly.”

It’s way past Chris’ bedtime, and Eddie is usually a stickler for Chris’ routine. But they’d all needed this tonight, so Eddie had gladly waived it just this once.

Buck stands, holding Chris to him, one arm moving to support him under his bottom. “I’ll read you the next chapter in A Series of Unfortunate Events while you fall asleep, okay? What book are we on now?”

“Miserable Mill,” Chris mumbles, and Eddie watches as Buck starts to walk them to Chris’ room.

“Right.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You going to be here when I wake up?”

Buck pauses, and Eddie says an easy, “Buck’s not going anywhere, kiddo.”

The look Buck gives him almost makes Eddie’s heart stop. It definitely makes his breath catch.

“Good,” Chris says, pressing his face to Buck’s shoulder. “Can you make pancakes in the morning? Dad’s are bad.”

Buck laughs, a sound Chris echoes but higher, sweeter. “They’re not good, huh?”

“Kinda like burnt, wet cardboard?”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, but there’s no heat behind it.

They turn their cheeky twin smiles on him, Buck’s cheek pressed to the top of Chris’ head, and Eddie swears, he’s never been more in love in his life.

They leave him, walk down the hallway together and disappear into Chris’ room and Eddie stands, turns off the TV, cleans up their mess, checks that the house is locked up.

Just a few minutes later Buck comes walking back into the family room, looking like he’s ready to drop right where he is. He stops anyway, staring across the room at Eddie.

“I love you,” he says, a little breathless. “God, Eddie, I love you. I didn’t say that earlier.”

Eddie just smiles. Technically he didn’t say it either.

“I meant to. I just couldn’t believe that...that you would...that I’d... _Eddie,_ ” he says a little helplessly, and Eddie’s smile softens, his head tilts.

“I know, Buck.”

Buck hesitates for only the smallest moment before he’s striding across the room and pressing himself to Eddie, folding himself into Eddie’s arms.

“Our kid asleep?”

Buck makes a desperate sound and tries to burrow himself deeper into Eddie. Eddie smiles, pressing his smile into the side of Buck’s head. He knows exactly what he’s saying, exactly what it’ll do to Buck to hear it.

“He was out in like a minute.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Of course he was.”

He takes his time holding Buck in the dark of the quiet family room, breathing with Buck in his arms, holding him tight, pulling back only once Buck has finally settled, calmed, his fingers ceasing their flexing against Eddie’s back.

Buck blinks at him slowly and Eddie huffs another laugh, smooths a thumb over Buck’s cheek. Clearly both of his boys were up way past their bedtime today.

“C’mon...it’s your bedtime too.”

Buck goes without protest and Eddie leads him to his bedroom – now theirs – and pulls a pair of his sweats out of the dresser for Buck. They change and slip into bed and then Buck slips right back into Eddie’s arms, easy as anything, as if it’s what he’s always done.

The enormity of that makes Eddie pause for a moment, his arms hovering over Buck before they finally settle. Eddie gave so much to Buck tonight, but Eddie got so much in return too. He could kick himself for waiting so long, for all the things they’ve missed, but he also knows there’s no point in that. No point in dwelling on the things they didn’t do. No sense in looking back like that.

They lay there, Buck half on top of Eddie, Buck’s face pressed into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie lets his hand splay out and over the warm skin of Buck’s naked back, feels his hand rise and fall with more regularity as Buck drifts closer to sleep, feeling, for once, like everything in his life is finally slotting into place.

He owes that to Buck’s big, open heart. Thank God for Buck’s heart.

“Ed?” Buck asks softly, voice thick with sleep.

Eddie hums in response.

“So long. I’ve loved you for so long.”

Eddie swallows then presses a firm kiss to the crown of Buck’s head.

“Me too,” he says, because it’s true, even if it took him a while to realize that. Even if it took him a while to act on it. But that doesn’t matter, not anymore. They’re here now. That’s what matters.

And he can’t wait for what’s next.

Even the rough days.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as crazyassmurdererwall. Come say hi if you like.


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